


Blood Like Roses

by musicalkeiyuu



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Bloodplay, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalkeiyuu/pseuds/musicalkeiyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because this is what they did, fixing things with broken things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Like Roses

 

He remembered the very first time they kissed, Kazuya tasted like something metallic.

It was blood. But he couldn't really tell truly, if it was his or him.

But he could tell, that it really didn't matter, as he ran a finger through the cut on his lip, on their lips.

Because he was beautiful. 

 

Kazuya knocked on his door.

"I don't get you." Kazuya spat. It's not that he snapped, it's the matter of the manner in which he snapped. His jaw clenched shut as he threw the next words to him.

For a brief moment he let the panic washed over his face, because he's hit a nerve, a big one, probably the last one that got Kazuya all worked out stomping into his door.

He almost failed to recognize the man before him like he used to- his best friend, his partner, his soul mate. Kazuya was raging with anger.

It was a genuine jealousy.

He didn't move an inch, didn't move a muscle from where he stood, as Kazuya marched towards him and the first blow hit him square on the jaw.

All he was able to was experiencing the throbbing pain, and the copper-like taste inside his mouth.

Because this is what they do.

Break things, and fixing them with broken things.

 

He could only watch as Kazuya swallowed five aspirins at once, downing it with a shot of vodka.

He looked catastrophic, there were bags under his usually tired eyes, heavier and darker than the usual he managed to get.

Because he was at loss of words, he could barely retained his gaze on his devastating appearance.

"This is fucked up."

Everything was.

 

"We should talk." Kazuya said, one day.

On the rooftop, he wondered, what exactly the probable reason, if it was the matter of time, or just the two of them, the cause of the distancing between them.

Beside him on the rooftop, Kazuya made his speech, he told him they were playing by the world's rules, if they went against the flow, they wouldn't made a living. He let him to think and then he brought his feet to leave.

But he caught some turbulence in his emotion, and he reached for him.

"I'm not ready." He said.

Because he wasn't ready. He didn't want to. And he believed he knew Kazuya was the same.

 

It wasn't a fancy dinner, in the early hour. But it made a perfect sense for both of them. As it was another step of alleviation.

Spoon clacked and fork clattered to plate. Glasses clinking together, for some kind of distinctive celebration, by silence.

There were dozens of red roses next to Kazuya, a stunning contrast to the pale color of his skin, and his stare dropped to the deep red wine inside the clear glass.

It was never such a failure to remind of him of their first kiss.

It was a perfect reminder of blood.

 

He twisted his arms behind his back, grabbing a fistful of hair, his head thrown back.

But Kazuya never fought him back. It almost drew tears out of him, because Kazuya would always willing to give up the control that he often seized.

Only with him. Just for him.

 

He sank his teeth into the tender skin of his neck, nearly producing blood, but Kazuya was only hissed, he didn't complaint even once.

He shoved him forward, and he got the jump on him, on top of the bed.

It was a smooth sharp dagger, quiescently he roamed the tip along Kazuya's naked skin, and he watched his face contorted with feelings.

"It doesn't hurt." Kazuya said, breathless, appreciating the blade sinking into his flesh, just under his aroused narrow areola. 

Circular shape of red droplet formed on his chest, and he used this chance to smear it with his fingers, trailing along the skin.

Another stinging sensation piercing his senses, as the blade cut yet another areas of his exposed skin.

It send him jerking tremendously, when Jin lapped his tongue across his wounded flesh, tainting the heated air with the scent of iron.

"I'm yours." The pain and pleasure, they mingled together. Kazuya couldn't decide which of them were much more stronger. Perhaps he refused to choose.

"You're mine." He said, as he escalated his moves, pounding desperately into his hot body, thrusting into Kazuya's body, that was messily stained with the red color of blood. 

"Forever."

There were various of cuts decorating his body and soul to remind him every time. 

 

The pain twisted inside him, invading his thoughts, oddly it was calming. 

As Kazuya caressed the skin of his thigh with finely cold tip of the knife, he shuddered with anticipation.

As the dagger dipped into his flesh, he grunted with silent approval.

"It doesn't hurt." He whispered encouragingly, for Kazuya followed the line of the red liquid with his tongue, and licked it off from the skin. And then Kazuya cut him further.

He watched as Kazuya retreated his hand away from his bloody leg to squeeze his erection.

He smiled as Kazuya smiled to him, he stared at the crimson stains and liquid dripping down Kazuya's fingers, down to his length. Kazuya began moved his hand down to his crotch, thus gripped hard.

"I"m yours." Kazuya stroked him faster than ever. The warm slick feel of the blood made this so much better.

"You're mine." Kazuya said, and collecting more blood to ripple his fingers over the length, and brought it into his mouth.

It was dizzying, the peculiar smell and taste of blood, combined with the musky scent of sex.

"Forever."

But it was a fairly good enough reminder to whom they truly belonged to.

 

They would feel for this for days afterwards.

Tracing the bruises and wounds in the bathroom mirror.

Still undecided, wouldn't really know if they were looking at the battle scars of fighting or just plainly fucking.

But it didn't matter that much either.

Because this was what they did.

This was the kind of affection they needed.

 


End file.
